Being a West Australian I have always been of the opinion that the best coast is the west coast, however exploring the south coast of Australia in the last few days has invited me to question this assumption and has given me a greater appreciation of the south’s answer to our wild and barren yet beautiful western side of the vast nation i call home.
First stop along the coast was the Royal National Park, located just outside of Sydney, this bush was reminiscent of my grandparent’s farm where march flies and muddy creeks are commonplace. The type of country you imagine when someone tells you they have ‘gone bush’ for a bit.
We continued further south, to a place which more closely resembles something from the teletubbies than from a nation renowned for it’s rainless days, Kiama where we met with some old family friends, sharing red wine and walking their dog Misty in the great outdoors, while keeping an eye out for migrating whales. The view from the balcony of their home shows just how varied this magical place is, where the palm trees remind us that where we stand today there once was a rainforrest, and the mountains on the horizon means that night comes quicker and is colder than in the mountainless West.
The next stop was a small place in whoopwhoop called Duras, a beachside town with trees as tall as the giants you were told about as a smallchild. Located just outside of a national park life is slow and simple here and water is collected in tin rain tanks. The beauty of the ocean reminds me that this land is collected to the land i call home, the same water kisses the shores of my home break. It feels familiar, yet worlds away from rugged WA. As always, standing on the beach looking out into the enormity of the ocean serves as a reminder that although my life’s burdens might seem like the ocean, they are just one a few minuscule water particles in a vast expanse of sea.
Travelling alone – why do it?
I like the freedom to drift and float. The freedom from an itinerary. The freedom from someone else’s travel experience expectations. Sometimes what you want out of travel is merely the chance to go about your life some place else for a little while, to break away from the places and people that you associate with every day to allow yourself to reflect on where you are and where you want to be. Continue reading
Imagine my surprise when I touched down in Singapore in July last year and realised my connecting flight to Istanbul was not at 1:45pm that day, but 1:45am the next (read about sleeping in airports here).
Slightly blearily on account over over indulgence on the delicious complimentary Singapore slings (anything with gin and/or grenadine, yes please!) I decided it was time to go exploring.
With a few Singaporean dollars, a metro pass and a sense of adventure I roamed around this oriental delight of a city for the best part of a day.
If you have a couple of hours to kill in Singapore, i can recommend purchasing a sweet crepe from the Bugis street markets (and doing a spot of shopping of course!), marvelling at the stupendous Marina Bay sands mall and the accompanying Gardens by the Bay where the canopy of super-trees will really have you feeling like a ladybird in a field of grass.
The floating baby sculpture at Gardens by the Bay also had me wondering whether those Singaporean slings had been incredibly potent or I had simply lost the plot from delirium due to my hasty flight booking.
Here are a selection of snaps I took on my (surprise!) stopoever. Continue reading
Location: On board a long haul flight; Point of origin: Perth; destination: London
I have been flying this route basically my whole life, yet the cloud formations and the way the world looks so small – like a mega-legoland city – are yet to lose their alluring sense of wonder.
Every time I flying this distance of thousands of miles, I stare at the clouds and the mountains and the oceans and the city lights, trying to figure out whether my home lies at my point of origin or my destination.
I am starting to think home can not be found in just one place.. Continue reading
My mother has always told me “if you are going to jump off a cliff, don’t tell me until you’ve done it”. So far she has been rather lucky in that department, I am yet to take up basejumping or go skydiving. The one thing which I have done, however, which essentially involves exactly that is to go paragliding.